Escape From New York is a science fiction/action film widely known as "the most hardcore piece of cinematic history ever produced." Released in 1981, it was written and directed by John Carpenter, the very same man that raised Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart from the grave and forced his decaying corpse to play with synthesizers until it created a library of possible soundtrack material that he could use in his many films. Although to this day, Carpenter denies these claims and he continues to demands all of the credit. John Carpenter is also responsible for directing the movie Halloween, which he financed with the money he made selling weed to your parents in the 70's. JC insists on labeling every movie that he makes "John Carpenter's ___," which seems unnecessary since no other filmmaker would want to be given credit for the bulk of his shitty movies.

Escape From New York obviously takes place in New York City, in the year 1997, in a dystopian future... (Uhhh, past? Ah well it was the 80's after all...) Okay, fuck it, it's a magical time frame in which Kurt Russel has to save the President™ from Isaac Hayes, also known as "Chef," and his gang of leftover extras from "Mad Max" and "The Warriors."

Kurt Russell is asked to preform this heroic quest by the evil cowboy from those Sergio Leone films. His only reward for completing this mission is a pardon by the US government, for all the crimes hes been committing (like rape and murder, but mostly rape). Although we figure out soon enough that the evil cowboy doesn't actually give a shit about Kurt Russell. Which is okay, because Kurt Russell doesn't give a shit about the President™, the war, and/or you. So the only way to make sure that Kurt Russell actually goes looking for the president is to put BOMBS IN HIS NECK that will blow his head off. How this is suppose to motivate someone, I do not know, but it sure fucking motivated Kurt Russell. Because maybe what he hates the most is knowing his head is going to explode.

So anyway... He swoops into New York City on a fucking hand glider dressed up as a pirate with army pants and combat boots. And he's armed with a friggin' Uzi and a Magnum, which are also equipped with scopes. Yeah, that's right, fucking SCOPES, I shit you not. It's like a goddamn telescope. He can't even spy on someone without pointing a gun at them at the same time since he is that awesome. After landing his super duper ultra stealth Hand Glider, he proceeds to fuck up everyone's shit - and I do mean everyone - by either punching them in the eyes, shooting them in the kneecaps, headbutting them in the balls, or sticking a nail-spiked baseball bat up their ass.

This is how Kurt Russell negotiates with his friends...

Eventually, he ends up fighting against Zangief in a wrestling match. Though Kurt Russell clearly had the advantage, being Kurt Russell and all. And so he fucks up Zangief's shit something fierce right in the skull. And everyone is like "Woah!" But then Kurt Russell looks at his state-of-the-art American Eagle watch and he's all like, "Oh fuck I only have like an hour left before my head explodes, I should stop messing around and take this for serious now." And so he does, and he's really hurried, but he can't run since someone shot a fucking arrow in his knee. Because, while it is impossible to get a gun in New York, apparently everyone and their ugly sister can get a fucking crossbow. Seriously, they're fucking everywhere. Also, in the movie, dopey looking Australian hats, faggy jewelry, leather chaps, and overall sadomasochistic attire are bountiful in Manhattan Island (just like in real life).

So then, Chef chases Kurt Russell over some fucking bridge until Dr. Evil is all like "Fuck you, Chef!" and shoots him with a machine gun. This is probably in retaliation for the violent anal rapes he received from Chef and gay Peter Pan. Also, some chick with an incredible rack gets squished by a car because she's all depressed over her nerd boyfriend getting blown-the-fuck-up a minute earlier.

Kurt Russell makes it back safely. Hooray! But KR doesn't celebrate. Instead, he is all squinty-eyed and pouty. He smokes a cigarette while relishing his angst and noncomformity, since he dresses in black, wears combat boots, and hates "The Man."

Although his present whereabouts are currently unknown, some believe that he died in the tragic grease fire of 2002 at a McDonalds in Montreal. Several charred bodies where found and one paramedic stated, "One of them had, like... a mullet, but not really." A very clever internet detective quickly identified this body to be the late and great Kurt Russell's.